It had been three years since their first meeting—on the calendar—and one year since his death. As he stood staring at the line of black sedans parked in front of the traditional Korean restaurant, it felt as if he’d only just been dragged to that construction site on the cliffside of the East Sea yesterday.
Though the interview and location differed from the last life, the first impression he got from Cheon Tae-seong was exactly the same. With his pheromones imprinted across the space like footprints, it felt like stepping into an Alpha’s den—one he had no business entering.
In the courtyard paved with tightly packed gravel, men in black suits stood in two lines, forming a path. As Ha-jin stepped onto it, the man standing by the gate radioed in to announce the guest’s arrival.
“……”
Ha-jin steadied himself and walked down the stone path. Following the guide’s lead, he soon spotted Cheon Tae-seong seated in a pavilion, sipping tea. Even under the deep shadows cast by the roof, the area around him seemed to glow, as if lit by some unseen light.
Seeing him again after so long, Tae-seong was just as stunningly beautiful, and the space he occupied felt so out of place, it was as if it didn’t belong in this world at all.
Ha-jin looked down at his shoes while standing on the stone steps. His already worn-out shoes had gotten a large scuff on them from the mad dash over here.
“Lee Ha-jin? Please come in. The CEO is waiting.”
Just like in his previous life, Ha-jin was pushed toward Cheon Tae-seong once again. After sprinting all the way here, sweat was beading and trickling down his overheated back.
“Is that whole Kim Nalgae thing just a persona?”
“…Sorry?”
Startled by the very first question, Ha-jin stiffened up as Tae-seong looked up at him, a faint curve to his lips.
“Your socks. And your anonymous ID.”
“Ah…”
Looking down at last, Ha-jin squeezed his eyes shut. That bright yellow bear winking up at him from his foot was… hard to miss. Trying to hide it, he curled up his feet and awkwardly shuffled across to sit opposite Tae-seong, only for another question to hit him.
“What does ‘Kim Nalgae’ mean?”
Starting a conversation with a harmless joke—it was just like their last life. Back then, Ha-jin had thought that was part of Tae-seong’s charm. Now, red-faced with embarrassment, Ha-jin shook his head.
“That’s a secret.”
“A secret?”
The soft clink of the teacup being set down pulled his attention. Tae-seong ran his fingers slowly along the rim of the cup, almost as if caressing it. Then, without warning—before Ha-jin could even take a full breath—he released his pheromones. A dazzling floral scent, like sunlight soaked into petals, washed over Ha-jin.
“What do you think? My pheromones.”
For most Omegas, that kind of pheromone would’ve been overwhelming, but strangely, Ha-jin felt his nerves start to settle.
An Omega who doesn’t go into heat from Alpha pheromones.
Sure, it was partly due to his unique physiology—but in his last life, Cheon Tae-seong had released his pheromones the exact same way at their first meeting.
The repetition of the same pattern made Ha-jin unintentionally let out a short, nervous chuckle. He was supposed to be acting stiff and composed like the first time they met, but controlling his expression was proving harder than expected.
“Your pheromones smell nice. I don’t think I’ve ever met an Alpha with such a strong floral scent before.”
Feigning calm, Ha-jin threw back a line similar to what he’d said in his past life.
In truth, Tae-seong’s pheromones were a kind of test. He despised wasting time and had no intention of hiring an Omega manager who would react to his scent.
When Ha-jin returned exactly the kind of response he was looking for, Tae-seong calmly lifted his gaze and locked eyes with him. With those long, sharp eyes that gave him a naturally fierce look, most people found it hard to even meet his gaze.
But Ha-jin accepted that piercing stare without flinching, and finally, Tae-seong extended his hand and spoke.
“Cheon Tae-seong.”
“…Lee Ha-jin.”
“Not Kim Nalgae?”
“You can keep asking, but it’s still a secret…”
At the end of the handshake, Tae-seong, as was his habit, squeezed Ha-jin’s hand tightly before letting go. Even though he’d expected it, Ha-jin nearly let out a stupid gasp. Tae-seong’s hand, large enough to wrap around his own completely, felt scorching hot.
“Just like the rumors say—you don’t react to Alpha pheromones at all.”
“…Did you come looking for me because of those rumors?”
“That’s right.”
Tae-seong’s gaze lingered, as if reading Ha-jin down to his core.
“They say there’s not a trace of Omega pheromones in you. Like a blank sheet of paper.”
“……”
“What’s the reason? Genetic? Acquired?”
“I’ve been this way since birth.”
He kept asking questions as if meeting Ha-jin for the first time. Even though the file he must’ve gotten from Kwak Mari contained his medical certification and profile, Tae-seong clearly preferred hearing things directly from the person.
It was the same in their past life. Tae-seong had never hesitated to throw out provocative questions.
Back then, Ha-jin had already figured he was no ordinary man. Even with red flags flashing right in front of him, he’d endured it all because Tae-seong had offered the biggest paycheck of his entire career.
So these blunt, invasive questions didn’t catch him off guard. In fact, Ha-jin found himself relaxing. Every time Tae-seong acted the same as he had in the previous life, it eased the knots in his stomach.
The nightmares and déjà vu were just nerves. Tae-seong had simply come to find him, following the same natural course as before. That meant it was up to him to choose how to respond.
“Among your future tasks, this will be one of them.”
“This?”
“Answering my questions immediately, without thinking too hard about why I’m asking.”
“……”
“You’re the one I’ll be entrusting with my most private, vulnerable moments. I think it’s a basic and reasonable demand.”
“……”
“If that alone makes you uncomfortable, then let’s not waste each other’s time—get up and leave.”
Ha-jin blinked at him for a moment, then, as if he’d been waiting for it, rose slightly from his seat.
“Then I’ll be going now.”
“Sit down.”
“……”
Their gazes clashed midair. Tae-seong looked like he might shoot daggers at him with his eyes alone, and Ha-jin, half-risen, reluctantly sat back down.
“It’s not that I have a problem with your demands. It’s only natural to be sensitive about rut-related matters, and that’s my job.”
“Then?”
“I heard you’ve been looking for me all over the place.”
“That’s true.”
“You offered an excessively high fee through our CEO… pressured our agency… I’ve never been forced into a contract like this before. May I ask why you’re going this far?”
Was that too direct? Did that sound like I was asking, ‘Did you come back in time too?’
Ha-jin discreetly licked his parched lips.
Don’t panic. This is a perfectly reasonable question, even if he’s not a regressor. Cheon Tae-seong really did come after me like a madman, after all.
Repeating it to himself over and over to keep from shaking, Ha-jin clenched his fists under the table.
“Mm.”
Tae-seong hummed with a flat expression. After a brief silence, he pulled a business card from his pocket and placed it on the table. Then, with a flick of his finger, he slid it right in front of Ha-jin.
Cheon Tae-seong, CEO of I&CH Holdings.
“‘Client’ sounds too strange.”
“…Yes, sir. CEO.”
“If I tell you why, will you work for me, Lee Ha-jin?”
“……”
“If you promise you will, I’ll tell you.”
“Th-That’s not fair…”
Ha-jin instinctively moved to argue at the absurdity, but the moment he met Tae-seong’s gaze, his words got caught in his throat. The man was smiling softly, the corners of his eyes and mouth gently curved.
Why is he smiling like that?
Every time Tae-seong smiled like that, Ha-jin felt like his brain short-circuited. And so he completely missed the subtle wrongness hiding behind those oddly clipped words.
“…Hmm?”
His cheeks began to flush, and while Ha-jin fumbled with his chubby lips, trying to find the right words, Tae-seong nudged him again.
“……”
“……”
Silence hung thick between them, stretched taut like a wire.
The air felt denser by the second, and Ha-jin kept biting his lips. Just as the sweat began to pool in his palms, Tae-seong suddenly leaned back. It was a simple movement, just shifting into the backrest—but for Ha-jin, it felt like someone had finally loosened a collar around his neck. A strange sense of release washed over him.
“I’ve never held back when I wanted something.”
“……”
“So I’m feeling a little impatient.”
Ha-jin blinked, trying to mask his unease.
“How can you be sure I’m someone you need?”
“That’s for me to decide.”
The way Tae-seong cut off the sentence so forcefully made it clear—he wouldn’t tolerate any disagreement.
“At the very least, you should explain properly so I can make my own decision.”
Hoping his shaky voice wouldn’t be misinterpreted, Ha-jin pressed.
Tae-seong blinked once in mild surprise, then let out a short exhale.
“…Are you angry with me right now?”
“No, no. Not at all.”
Ha-jin quickly shook his head, meekly backing down once again.
